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possibly be real. “Wishful thinking, perhaps?”
    He smiled with hooded eyes. “Simple observation. There’s no shame if you want me. In the most classical sense.”
    She licked her lips, unwilling to deny his assertion. She did want him. She had wanted him—or, at least, a man like him—for all of her life. Gallant, powerful, intense. A master of magic.
    And best of all, he wasn’t entirely real. By his description, he could not follow her out of this castle or disrupt the ordered life she’d built for herself on the mainland. He was a fantasy. A diversion. A sexy, sensual secret she’d discovered and, perhaps, only she could keep.
    “I won’t deny that I find you incredibly attractive,” she responded.
    “How can you? Even now, your body tightens for me.”
    She swallowed a gasp. Even in her century, such talk pushed limits. And yet, as his gaze brushed over her breasts, her nipples responded instantly. Her thigh muscles clenched with anticipation.
    Maybe he was simply like her. Honest. Insightful. Observant.
    Hot for magical sex.
    “Is this magic?”
    He leaned closer so that his breath, wine scented just as she’d imagined, teased her cheek. “The most elemental magic of all.”
    She tilted her chin to match his sensual stare. “You were a playboy in your former life, then?”
    He ran his tongue over his lips, drawing her attention to the fullness of his mouth. “Circumstances of my youth dictated that my boyhood was rather brief and did not include much time for play,” he informed her, his words crisp and factual while his tone lazed with sensuality. “My pursuits of pleasure began when I was very much a man.”
    “And you’ve been a man a very long time,” she said, her voice breathy with possibilities.
    Their lips were mere centimeters apart.
    “I’ve been a man trapped without a woman even longer,” he warned.
    Their noses brushed. “Should I be afraid?”
    “If you have to ask,” he said, sweeping the edge of his lips over hers, “the answer is decidedly no.”
    Alexa couldn’t remember the last time she’d kissed a man, but the moment her mouth clashed with Damon’s, all thoughts of former lovers or the lack thereof flew out of her head. As she’d anticipated, he tasted of a fine claret—and so much more. Tobacco. Time. Experience. His tongue smoothed against hers with coaxing skill, but she didn’t need to be cajoled. She speared her hands into his hair, freeing the dark strands from the leather tie, and climbed onto her knees so she had to tilt his chin toward her to fully devour him.
    He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
    “What manner of witch are you?”
    She supposed she should be insulted, but instead she laughed. “Don’t try to convince me that all the women in your day were prim and proper maidens with no passion. I know things about history and I won’t believe you.”
    He scowled slightly. “I would not attempt to perpetrate such a lie. Yet only moments ago, you doubted my good character.”
    She balanced her hands on his shoulders, massaging the thick muscles with greedy hands, waylaying her need to rip the soft linen of his shirt away from his skin. “I still doubt your good character. All the better for what I want from you.”
    He quirked a grin. “You’re sure you’re not royalty?”
    She laughed. “Depends on who you ask.”
    “I prefer to keep our interactions private.”
    “Good,” she said, leaning forward and teasing his lips with hers once again. “I was thinking the very same thing.”

Six
    Alexa hardly knew what had come over her.
    Okay, that was a bald-faced lie. Lust had come over her. Years and years of fantasizing about a mysterious, ghostly stranger fading into her room late at night and introducing her to decadent pleasures of the flesh. Hot dreams. Wet dreams. Dreams that had haunted her with particular vigor since her month-long stay in the hospital, when she’d had little to do but